Dreams
by Don't Tell My Friends
Summary: They always started out the same. "Jemma? Is that you?" As if it would be anyone else sitting beside him.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers for the Season 1 Finale! **

**I realized after writing this that the whole "Simmons stubbornly stays by Fitz's bed" genre had been done already a couple of times. I hope that I've done enough of my own work that it doesn't hound in on another story already posted.  
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They always started out the same.

"Jemma? Is that you?"

As if it would be anyone else sitting beside him.

The dreams had started right away. The team had set up a bunk for Simmons the first night they were there. But it had been a nervous, sleepless night. Fitz was in the medical bay healing, and she found out quickly that she couldn't sleep without him near. That way she could always make sure he was still safe, still with them. Still with _her_.

It started off just for the sleep. Sitting in her bed, alone, she had nothing to do but worry about him. But sitting next to him, hearing him breathe with her own ears, she could be sure he was okay. That night was the first time she dreamt about him waking up, but the sun rose before she could get a proper night's sleep. Just like the ones to come, it started with her name. "Jemma? It that you?" groggily spoken in his Scottish accent.

The small medical staff didn't mind her being around. She was even able to lend a hand from time to time, and of course she had the courtesy to leave for a moment when they needed her to. But she was determined to leave his side as little as possible until he was awake. The rest of the team had been making themselves busy since arriving. She knew she should be with them, helping rebuild SHIELD, but the thought of Fitz slipping away while she was gone ripped her apart. Skye in particular was very supportive, stopping by as often as she could. Coulson made sure she had meals brought to her. They encouraged her to at least sleep in a more comfortable spot, but after all they had been through, no one wanted to be the one to split up Fitzsimmons.

"Jemma? Is that you?"

After a few nights at his bedside, she realized the pattern. It always started the same way: Fitz waking up, seeing her. And she always responded the same: grabbing his hand and smiling softly to him.

"Yes, it's me, Fitz. I'm here."

It could be anything from there, however. One night he might be fine; good as new and able to get right out of bed and straight back to being himself. Another, he might be a bit more sickly; unable to move much or at all, but he was always okay. Those dreams were the good ones. Even if they started off a bit scary, they always ended with him healed and back with her. Together again, like they always had been.

But the good ones were made more precious by the nightmares that showed up as well. One night she woke screaming when she dreamed the room had filled up with water and she couldn't save him in time. Another night she dreamed that he had awoken, but wasn't Fitz anymore. The brain damage rendered him nothing like his old self, and unable to remember anything, not even her. That one really scared her more than any of the others.

She knew she shouldn't dwell on that fear too much, though. She was very aware of the potential damage that had been done, and any memory loss would be short term, at worst. She hung onto the hope that if – no, when - he woke up, he would still be the same old Fitz that he had always been. The same old Fitz she loved.

Sitting with him gave her plenty of time to think over what he had said before they escaped. He loved her. Resting somewhere in her heart, long forgotten about, was the fact that she horribly loved him too. She hadn't thought about those feelings for a long time. When you sit on a crush on your best friend for so long, you learn how to live with it. It goes unnoticed. Until Fitz brought it bubbling right back up like a science fair volcano. She had wished that she had been a bit more composed when he told her. In her panicked and fairly shocked state, all she could do was haphazardly kiss him anywhere she could. While Simmons was sure Fitz hadn't minded that, she knew it didn't convey what she felt. She would've handled that quite differently if she could have, told him exactly how much he meant to her too.

And in her dreams, she often did. In the good ones she would make a grand declaration of love, or just silently lean over and kiss him. The dark ones might reveal that Fitz had lied to her, or had regretted what he said. Worse yet that he never loved her, and never would. Those would wake her too, and she would cry herself back to sleep clutching his hand.

"Please, Fitz. Come back to me. Please."

Time never seemed to go as quickly as Simmons would've liked. She requested that Skye bring her books or movies to pass the time; always ones that she and Fitz had enjoyed together. If deep down he could hear her, she wanted to call him home with something he would recognize. She would talk to him too, really mostly to herself, or even sing a little bit if the mood stuck her and she was_ certain_ no one was around.

"Jemma? It that you?"

"Yes, it's me, Fitz. I'm here."

After about a week, she noticed a much more comfortable chair had showed up in the hospital room. The team had evidently given up on getting her to sleep elsewhere. And slowly the room started looking more like home. Simmons had set up a little makeshift desk so she could run through some new ideas. She always bounced her thoughts and theories off Fitz, and even if he couldn't respond, it helped get her mind going. A small plush monkey appeared up on his end table, a gift from the team; Simmons placed a picture of them from graduation next to it.

She did find that she was able to leave his side a little more often. She could walk around and help when she was needed, and occasionally explored the new base –"The Playground" as Billy had named it. As long as she was busy or had something to catch her attention, she could temporarily put her fears on hold. But she always found herself back at his bed, by his side.

The dreams continued, and she gave up on dreaming of anything else until he was back. The medical team failed to revive him in one, and he had robot legs in another. He would sometimes go on and on about monkeys, or sometimes not be able to speak much at all anymore.

"We've done all we can" the doctor said one night, "all we can do now is make him comfortable and wait."

The team had gathered to get this update on his condition. Simmons had heard it earlier, but she was glad her friends were with her now. Skye sat down next to her to comfort as best she could.

Coulson was the first to speak up. "Has his condition improved?"

"We won't know the full extent of the damage until he's awake" the doctor explained, "but for now, his brain activity is back to normal and we believe he'll be okay."

"Thank you, doctor" Coulson said tactfully. "Let us know if anything changes."

One by one they left, until Skye and Simmons were left.

"You going to be okay?" Skye asked, concern welling in her eyes.

"I will be. Thank you." Simmons replied, hoping she was convincing. Skye hugged her and left for the night.

She picked up a book and read to Fitz. It was his favorite, and she never did get around to finishing it herself. She looked forward to the beaming on his face when she told him what she thought, and laughed to herself because she knew exactly what'd he say.

"…so that is why I keep running towards you, Ms. Taylor." she read as the book came to a close, "Because no matter how far from you I am, if I keep running, maybe, just maybe, one day I might finally catch up."

Her eyes teared up a bit as she finished. She certainly understood why it was his favorite book now. Fitz had always been running to her, and now she hoped that he would catch up.

Her eyes started to droop. The clock on the wall read 11:58. Time had gotten away from her. It had been a particularly stressful day, with more tests on him than usual. But Fitz was going to be okay, and Simmons breathed a little easier for that.

Resting her head down, she could feel herself drifting off to her familiar dreams yet again.

"Jemma? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, Fitz. I'm here." She smiled against the sheets and held his hand.

"Good. I was hoping I'd see the girl I loved one more time." He said, much clearer than ever.

"I love you too, Fitz." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. This dream would be one of the nice ones, she thought.

And this time, unlike all the others, she could feel him squeeze back.


	2. Chapter 2

**I wasn't planning on doing a second bit, but I wanted to show Fitz's point of view during the same time period, and add onto the ending past what the first chapter showed. I'm certain comas don't actually work this way, but it's all metaphorical anyway.**

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They always ended the same way. Jemma's crying face before he hit the button that flooded the small room with water. He would feel the force of the waves crashing in, and her scream would be drowned out by all the noise as his vision goes black.

His thoughts were all a blur, but his dreams kept returning to that same scenario. He kept reliving their last moments over and over again. If he could think rationally, he'd realize that the fact that he could relive them at all was proof that he was okay and that those weren't their last moments after all. But Fitz couldn't think very rationally. He didn't really have much control over his unconscious mind at all. At least not until he heard her voice.

"Please, Fitz. Come back to me. Please."

It was the first thing in a long time to sound so clear. It was like a lighthouse shining his way home. Where ever he was, Jemma was on the other side, trying to get him back.

His own thoughts returned to him slowly, but until he could wake up, he couldn't shake his dream-like state. His mind was hazy and unfocused, but Fitz could begin crawling towards her.

Time had no meaning, so when he felt her hand on his for the first time he couldn't be sure if hours or days had passed. Her touch would fade in and out, but he could always sense her standing over him, as if guarding him from danger in the night. One night's kiss upon his forehead spun life into his whole body before it too faded away again.

The dreams changed as she pulled him closer and closer back to the world. He would see Jemma standing there, eager and waiting to welcome her best friend back with a hug and a kiss. He would be with her again and tell her all the things he didn't have the courage to say before. He would tell her how he felt. How he lit up when she smiled and how he couldn't sleep without picturing her besides him.

But when he could hear her crying, when he could sense that she was sprawled over him sobbing, he shared her pain. The dreams turned to nightmares of her dying in the waters next to him. Of his return and her rejection of his feelings. Of him never seeing her bright face ever again.

So he crawled and crawled, closer and closer to her voice. He tried desperately to call out to her, to let her know that he could hear her. That he loved her. But he never could make the push out of his haze. He could only wait for her warmth to return to him each day.

When she would read to him, Fitz would dream of the two of them back on the plane that they had made home. When she would sing to him, he could remember when she used to do that for him at The Academy when they were stressed and tired from studying. And when she wasn't there, on the occasions she could muster up the courage to leave for a spell, Fitz feared she would never return; his dreams turned dark and worried, but they were always calmed when she came back and held his hand in her own.

When he finally could see for the first time, it didn't last. An unfamiliar instrument was aimed at his face, and he could feel metal attached to his scalp. The doctors beyond his vision muttered something about his 'response' before he went black again. It was his first view of the world since he had went unconscious; and Jemma wasn't there. He had been hoping she would be there.

But the hope in his dreams was just the thing keeping him going. Hope that he could see her again. Hope that he could grab her face and kiss her until she knew exactly what she meant to him. Hope that he would never be apart from her again. And that hope was enough to finally drag him to the finish line.

"…so that is why I keep running towards you, Ms. Taylor." Jemma read as Fitz finally shook the first bits of haze away. "Because no matter how far from you I am, if I keep running, maybe, just maybe, one day I might finally catch up."

It was his favorite book. He wasn't imagining it, or sensing it, or dreaming it. He had heard it. Louder and more clear than anything Jemma had ever said. The minutes passed and Fitz felt himself slowly waking. His black vision faded away and the room around him come into focus. A mess of brownish-blonde hair lay next to him.

"Jemma? Is that you?" Even in his grogginess he could recognize his best friend. The question was more of a formality.

The first thing he really, truly felt since the pod was her hand sleepily grasping his own.

"Yes, Fitz. It's me. I'm here."

He could tell just how exhausted the poor girl was. But he came all this way for her, and even if she would only barely hear him as she drifted to sleep, he had to let her know.

"Good. I was hoping I'd see the girl I loved one more time."

He clasped her hand and he could see her smile as she snuggled deeper into the bed. But his efforts weren't in vain, as she suddenly tensed up and realized that she hadn't dreamed his words. She looked up and saw him sitting there, smiling at her with a grin she missed so much.

"Fitz! Leo, you're... you're..." words failed her as tears welled up behind her eyes. He placed his free hand on her face and leaned his forehead against her own.

"It's okay, Jem. I'm back. I came back to you."

Simmons began sobbing with joy as she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. She was tired and he was only recently conscious, but they poured into each other and didn't want the moment to ever die.

"I can't believe you're here. I felt so helpless. I wanted so badly... I just wanted to bring you back to us." She sobbed out as they parted for breath. She stroked his hair as he smiled at her.

"You did, Jemma. I could hear you. In all my dreams, I could hear you calling me back home."

A new round of tears threatened to spring up, so she pulled him as close as she could and held him tight.

"I love you. I love you so much, Fitz. I'm so glad you're awake."

"Well, it certainly still feels like I'm dreaming." Fitz beamed at her she met his eyes.

"We're together again. It's absolutely a dream. But that doesn't mean we're not awake."


End file.
